So twice in the past three days, Mr. Personality made a rash and impetuous decision, and wound up ruining two things which he really liked.
When he threw one of his bath fish up in the air and its tail broke off after hitting the edge of the tub, you would have thought his life as he knew it was over.
"I'm sooooo saaaaaaaad," he wailed.
"Fisheeeeee is brooooken!"
Hubba-hubba tried to impersonate the fish and tell him that it was ok, and that he could probably swim without a tail, but Mr. Personality was having none of it.
"Nooooooo, you can't swim right without a taaaaaaail, fisheeeee. You are broooooken!"
Hubba-hubba had to literally lift him out of the bathtub, so great was his grief. He then collapsed against me, tears streaming down his face.
I wish I could say I was exaggerating, but that is the only way to accurately describe the sound that came out of his mouth. I couldn't believe it was coming out of my child.
The second time was this afternoon. Hubba-hubba had put some seeds in a cup, and the cup had been labeled "Mr. Personality's Plant" in tape on the outside. To my great surprise, little green shoots appeared in a little over a week. Mr. Personality was so proud of his plant, checking on its progress every day. We had put it outside to get a little sunshine, and I was out watering the regular plants with Mr. Personality playing with his dump truck a few feet away. Then the phone rang. You see where this is going, don't you? When I came back after 3 minutes or so, the cup was in the planter, surrounded by a lot of water.
"What happened to your plant? Let me see it."
He handed me the cup, which was no longer filled with soil and small green shoots, but mostly water with some bits of soil floating around rather forlornly.
"You lost your plant!" I gasped.
For some reason, it hadn't hit him yet that his plant was irrevocably gone, and I guess the expression on my face made him realize that the plant wasn't going to magically appear back inside the cup.
The wailing commenced, this time for all the neighborhood to hear and enjoy.
"I'm sooooooo saaaaaaaad! I want my plant baaaaaaack!" "
"Sweetie, we can't get it back."
There it was again.
During both incidents, part of me wanted to laugh, part of me was angry that he had destroyed his precious things through rash actions, but the largest part was also sooooo very saaaaaad with him.
But I went into teaching moment/lecture mode on both, letting him know that it was ok to feel sad, and that it is hard to handle when things that we like become broken. I only lightly touched on the fact that it was his own actions that caused the pain, because he's only three, and I know some 30 year olds who haven't grasped that concept yet.
My sister pointed out the positive side to these incidents in that he can express his feelings so eloquently.
Yeah, but that "waaaaaa" has got to go.